


Puri Cordis

by BlueRoboKitty



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A lot of meat references, Blood Drinking, Dark, F/M, Goats, Halloween, Happy Ending?, Historical Aesthetic, Horror, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Loss of Virginity, Riding, Ritual Public Sex, Samhain, This fic is pretty dark so please mind the tags, Vaginal Sex, Vampires, Werewolves, nadia’s usual sense of humor at least?, part of a larger au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 08:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16472471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRoboKitty/pseuds/BlueRoboKitty
Summary: “The year was 2174, but the aesthetic of Plaht City, like other American cities, claimed it was only 1852. WWIII that had devastated the world some hundred years ago caused humans to yearn for the nostalgic, of what they could have been. The Third War had brought with it monsters that most believed only existed in the figment of man’s imagination. Funny how such monsters meant to represent the darker natures of mankind, and when his darker nature became reality, so had they.”Ryan Kinkade has hidden for years that he’s a vampire hunter from his best friend. But when James Griffin is invited to go into a den of monsters for Samhain night, Kinkade has to rely on a vampire ally, Nadia of the Rizavi family, to protect him.But this night is Samhain, New Year’s Eve.And on this night, creatures of the Moon Mother cannot hide their true nature. Nor should they have to.





	Puri Cordis

**Author's Note:**

> I mention it in the tags, but I wanted to remind everyone that this fic is kinda weird and kinda dark. It’s a bit of a personal homage to all the weird, dark, more disturbing less graphic horror I’m into. I had a lot of fun with it, but it might not be to everyone’s taste. If you’re not into blood and casual sex for ritual purposes and a happy ending being a bare silver line of all this, you might not like it. But if you stick around, I think you will. It’s also part of a larger AU of mine that I have no time to write for Halloween so lots of details are kinda vague and not fully explored.
> 
> I also didn’t edit this very heavily. This monster is so damn long, I just don’t have time right now. But I tried to fix what obvious mistakes I could.
> 
> Enjoy!

_Even if a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers at night_

__May become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright_ _

 

* * *

 

**-1-**

The crisp October air gently blew his cloak around his tall frame as Ryan Kinkade, vampire hunter, made his way down the cobblestone street damp from the earlier afternoon rain, leaves squeaking wetly beneath his dark leather boots. The fog was quick to settle between tall buildings the moment the sun had set, curling lazily around oil street lamps that glowed like fairy lights, the bloated moon rising as the golden queen of them all. Somewhere in the distance came the rhythmic clopping of a horse pulling a carriage either to one’s home or a bar, and somewhere even more distant that only his sensitive ears could pick up, the soft hum of a jet engine drifting high above the clouds.

The year was 2174, but the aesthetic of Plaht City, like other American cities, claimed it was only 1852. WWIII that had devastated the world some hundred years ago caused humans to yearn for the nostalgic, of what they could have been. They had been given a second chance, as it turned out trying to commit atrocities against your fellow man for the sake of “progress” had not been the best idea since they had crawled out of the swamp.

That they were no longer atop the food chain served as a graphic reminder that everyone really was the same when they were hunted in the dark. The Third War brought with it monsters that most believed only existed in the figment of man’s imagination. Funny how such monsters meant to represent the darker natures of mankind, and when his darker nature became reality, so had they.

It started with the vampires. No one knew where they had come from, although theories ranged from humans consorting with demons, which might as well be real, to victims of the Third War coming back as a deadly reminder of mortal hubris, to divine punishment from God Himself for humanity’s crimes against each other.

Neither which Kinkade actually believed. Vampires were ancient, as were all immortal beings, born of man the moment he breathed the breath of life. Fallout and a decimated population allowed them to walk out in the open at last. And his job as a vampire hunter was to make sure the immortals, vampires in particular, hence the name, didn’t get too uppity and put their fangs where they didn’t belong. Legend may have made them far more powerful than they actually were, but at the end of the day when the sun sank below the horizon, vampires were born of man and therefore just as cunning and dangerous all the same. They just had the teeth to show it.

After the vampires, others came. The ghouls and the wolves, mostly, depending on the nature of the bite and the nature of the victim, for only vampires could create such beasts. Humans didn’t necessarily die from a vampire bite, but changed, all for the worse, really.

The lonely sound of Kinkade’s boots hitting stone eventually stopped in front of a tavern. He opened the door to the air thick with heat, alcohol, and laughter. Celebration abound. October 31st, New Year’s Eve. The harvest had officially come to a close, and soon the long dark of the beginning of the new year would be upon them. This would be the last time humans would celebrate like this until the thaw of spring arrived, for winter was the time of cold and darkness and immortals, and that’s when Kinkade’s work was going to be cut out for him.

His partner, Ina Leifsdottir, a quiet young woman all the way from Iceland, sat quietly at a table in the corner, nursing a mug of beer as she played some game on her smartphone, her freckled face illuminated by the glow of her screen. The golden light reminded him too much of the moon outside. “You’re late,” she said in the matter-of-fact tone she always used regardless of her actual mood, not turning her blue eyes up from whatever new puzzle game she engaged in this week.

Kinkade shrugged, and a waitress took his order as he sat down across from his partner. Water only. He will drink later, when his shift was over for the night, and he could finally relax. The waitress walked away to fetch him a glass, and he checked his phone. Social media made keeping up with the movements of a certain someone far easier than his ancestors had to endure, but it was not a vampire Kinkade was virtually stalking. In a way, he felt guilty. His best friend was not a child, more than capable of taking care of himself, a military officer even, a fighter pilot.

Kinkade wanted to recruit his childhood friend among the hunters, but James Griffin did not come from a hunter family, did not possesses the heightened senses mandatory for this line of duty. Griffin was fully, _dully_ human with no way to defend himself. Kinkade and Leif, on the other hand, trained for this since they were born. Kinkade’s clan originated from Nigeria, crossing up through the desert into Egypt then Europe and then eventually settled in America shortly after the Third War. Leif’s family had been hunters since the Viking Age where the frozen, dark north suffered the highest vampiric activity. It was only a few short years ago that she had been transferred to the American division.

Griffin’s social media was full of Halloween plans, chatting with their other friends about how he had just finished dinner and was getting ready to go out, asking his followers which costume he should wear with replies climbing up to the hundreds. Kinkade’s lips twitched with a slight, affectionate smile. Griffin had always incredibly popular, friendly, handsome, a natural born leader that drew others to him.

His small smile faltered. Humans would not be the only ones to notice someone like Griffin, especially tonight. Worse, Griffin wasn’t much of a party person to begin with, prioritizing his studies and his job over his social life, the star child of the Garrison. He rarely drank, and went to bed early, even on the weekends. The real Griffin was not nearly as outgoing as his online presence made him out to be. Griffin, he, well, he was just the kind of person who drew people to him whether he meant to or not.

People. And _things_.

“So we’re responsible for the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth districts tonight,” Leifsdottir said, swiping her screen from her game to a map. “Where did you want to start?”

Kinkade stiffened as his scrolling brought him to a deeply disturbing post that he cursed himself for not seeing sooner. “Fuck,” he grunted, solid discipline keeping him from throwing his phone to the floor in frustration.

“What is it?”

“Griffin changed his mind. He won’t be at the Garrison Officers’ Club tonight.”

Leif tilted her head. “Then where is he going?”

“Allura’s.”

“Ah.”

“You know something about this, Leif?”

“Jenny Shaybon is going to be meeting her friends there, according to the posts Griffin has been tagged in. It makes sense that Griffin would suddenly change his plans to go there to spend time with her.”

Of course. Jenny Shaybon was Griffin’s old flame from all the way back in middle school, a pretty blonde thing who had been just as popular as he was. They had even dated for a little while. But then Griffin joined the Garrison, and Jenny left town for her own college ambitions, and now four years after high school graduation, the two of them were reuniting at Plaht City where they had both grown up. Griffin had been talking to her more and more on public threads, and probably even more in private messaging. All his posts addressed to her were nothing but affectionate, even a bit flirtatious.

“Adorable,” Leif remarked, now scrolling through Griffin’s profile page on her own phone. “They _are_ planning on getting together during the party, after all. Looks like a lot of people ship them.”

Kinkade raised an eyebrow. “‘Ship’?”

“Short for relationship. When fans of a certain pair want to see that pair get together romantically. They might make fanworks of said pair, art, fiction, cosplay—“

“Cosplay? Of Griffin and this Jenny girl?”

“Not them, specifically, but in general, yes.”

“So basically a bunch of strangers on the internet think Griffin and Miss Shaybon make a cute couple and are encouraging them to be together, that is exactly what I need tonight.” He grunted, then thumbed through his contact list.

“Are you going to call _her?”_ Leif inquired, and this time she did look at Kinkade, frowning, worried.

“I have no choice,” he replied in tone that he absolutely would not call her if he did. “If he is in Allura’s territory, then we won’t be able to be there if he needs us.”

Allura of the Altean family. Owner of Club Arus. And not just any vampire. She was an Elite, a princess, and had lived far longer than most civilizations. And as per her agreement with the city, she and her own would never venture out beyond her territory so long as vampire hunters kept their distance. However, word on the hunter grapevine was that she was in the midst of a territorial dispute with another Elite. Princess Allura usually kept the majority of humans living in her territory safe and secure, another part of the deal that made the hunters, while still wary, not overly concerned about her. But with another Elite in the picture? That was a variable that did not guarantee human safety. And Allura? She was a vampire, when it boiled down to it. No matter how reasonable.

Kinkade sat still and quiet as he waited for his call to go through, only his finger tapping against the table betraying his spiking anxiety. Griffin just had to go chasing after Jenny all over the city tonight of all nights, didn’t he? Just couldn’t content himself into going to the Officers’ Club at the Garrison base where he would be perfectly safe, and Kinkade wouldn’t have to spend all night worr—

“Hello. Long time no talk, Ryan.”

The voice on the other end spoke cheerfully, as if genuinely delighted to hear from him.

Kinkade closed his eyes, took a deep breath.

“Miss Rizavi, I need a favor…”

* * *

 

**-2-**

James Griffin had never been to Club Arus, although he had heard this was supposed to be THE night club of night clubs in Plaht City. He stepped down from the carriage, tipped the driver, and the hansom cab clipclopped away. He hoped his costume of a 1950’s gangster wasn’t too lame. Having frequented a few clubs before, he thought a full monster costume complete with makeup would be too warm and too disastrous to party in. Something like this would be easy to delayer while maintaining the spirit of the night’s festivities and the image of formal handsomeness he projected wherever he went.

He smoothed the invisible wrinkles of his slim pinstripe suit and straightened his fedora because Jenny was going to be here, and all his self-confidence fled in the face of that fact. He had been a nervous wreck ever since she sent him the invitation a few days ago that instantly changed his plans from hanging out at the Officers’ Club on the Garrison base to coming all the way out here to a night club that he never had any business being near until now.

Jenny Shaybon had been the prettiest girl in the eighth grade, and even though she had gone on a few dates with James back then, it was with all the seriousness of any middle school first romance. Then he left for the Garrison to train to be a fighter pilot during his high school and college years, and she left Plaht City entirely.

Now she was back, grown into a beautiful woman, sweet and gentle-hearted and all those feelings of first love had come rushing back when she first reached out to him to tell him she had returned. They had already gotten together for lunches and coffee a few times since, but those weren’t _dates,_ per se, just two old friends catching up with the promise of something more hanging between them. And that something more, if their increasingly flirty private messages were anything to go by, was going to happen tonight.

His phone hadn’t stopped vibrating since he got in the cab, blowing up with messages from his squad. They had been a little cross with him for ditching at the last moment, but mixed in with the usual ribbing and threats of egging his apartment, was some encouragement, if you could call it that. He was finally getting laid. He’d rolled his eyes at that one. It wasn’t like that. At least, not _entirely._

He slipped into line as it quickly began building up around the block, looking around for Jenny. She messaged him about five minutes ago that she had arrived, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. She had been delighted when he told her his idea for being an old-fashioned gangster, and then teased him that her costume was going to be a surprise.

“Oh, my, aren’t you a cutie,” a tall zombie in front of him teased, and his zombie friends looked at him with measuring curiosity. Then his eyes brightened with recognition. "Wait, are you that Griffin guy?"

"James Griffin," he said politely.

"Oh yeah! You're the guy Jenny keeps talking about!" A girly clown with pigtails chirped. "Nice to meetcha. I'm Haley, and this is my good pal, Sean."

"Pal," Sean echoed with air quotes.

"The bouncers already took Jenny inside," Haley continued, ignoring the zombie. "She looked absolutely _ravishing_ tonight."

James tilted his head. "And you guys didn't go in with her?"

"The bouncers are picky, only bring in people one at a time," Sean explained. "Jenny tried to tell them she was in a group, but they ignored her. Honestly, I don't think this club is all it's cracked up to be. I've been trying to get a hold so she can come out soon and we can go somewhere else."

"Just be patient, hun," Haley said.

"But I wanna party, not stand out here all night in the cold!" Sean complained.

Curious as he was about Club Arus, James had to agree with the zombie on this one.

“We can keep you company while you wait,” Sean offered. He grinned wolfishly, eying James up and down. “My girlfriend and I are always open to new people, especially cute people.”

Haley elbowed him in the side. “You wish I was your girlfriend, Sean. And don’t be creepy. You’ll scare him away.”

“Hey, the bouncers are coming about ‘round,” someone further up the line announced.

Two bouncers in black shirts with Club Arus scrawled across their chests in golden letters strolled along the line. One was large, like professional wrestler large, a Samoan guy judging by the tattoos decorating his thick arms since his sleeves were rolled up past his elbows despite the deep chill. The other was not nearly as big but still muscular, black hair down to his shoulders and an angry scar cutting from his jaw up toward his right eye, face illuminated by the smartphone in his hand. They were both incredibly handsome, probably a job requirement if you were working at some place like Club Arus. They barely cast cursory glances at the crowd before moving on, much to groans of disappointment and pleas to be let in.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Big Guy asked nervously, heard only because James was zeroing in on their conversation as the bouncers drew closer to him, and the rest of the crowd noises faded. “Following someone _else’s_ orders like this?”

“Allura said to accommodate her while she’s a guest in this district,” Scar-Face replied in a bored tone.

“But she’s not _our_ Elite.”

“No, but Allura seems to like her a lot, and that’s all that matters, really.”

As if realizing they were being watched, Scar-Face looked directly at James. Then he glanced at his phone, and then back at James again.

“You. Machine Gun Kelly. Come here.”

Everyone went quiet when the pair of bouncers approached, staring straight at James. Their eyes were bright. He had never seen colors like those in someone’s eyes, Big Guy with his crimson, and Scar-Face with his impossible shade of violet, so vivid and unable to look away from.

“Me?” he asked.

“You’re literally the only mobster I’m looking at,” Scar-Face snapped impatiently.

“Is that him?” Big Guy asked.

“Yeah, that’s definitely him.”

James didn’t really have a choice stepping forward, as the zombie and his clown girlfriend shoved him in Scar-Face’s direction. “Go on, dude, you’ve been chosen,” they chirped with excitement. James was so hesitant, and they were so eager to push him out of the line, that he was having a difficult time maintaining his balance. A strong arm kept him from falling, and then there was Scar-Face all up in his business, shoving his nose into the crook of James’s neck.

 _“Whoa!”_ came the collective shriek of zombies, clowns, witches, goblins, pirates, and other assorted costumed monsters watching the scene unfold before them. Smartphone cameras clicked with hunger.

James went completely still, his fight-or-flight response unsure how to respond this situation as that nose rubbed up and down his jugular. _“Mmmmm,”_ Scar-Face sighed, breathing in deep, making James shiver, anticipation rolling in his belly, thoughts that maybe if he ended up going home with Scar-Face instead of Jenny tonight, that wouldn’t be a bad trade. James preferred women, but he liked his own gender well enough and wouldn’t say no to a guy like this who was just so damn pretty. He could hear his heart thundering in his ears, feel the heat from his own face.

“Keith,” Big Guy warned, and, maybe it was just the trick of the light, but he could’ve sworn the pupils of those crimson eyes became slits.

Scar-Face — er, _Keith_ — lifted his head from James’s neck, grinning. “Yeah, this is the one,” he said.

“Okay, good. C’mon, let’s get this guy inside and get this over with. She’s waiting for him by the bar.”

“Yeah, no, Hunk, we’re taking him into the VIP section.”

“Wait, wait, but he’s, she said, okay, seriously, _why?”_

Keith already started dragging James away, who had gone boneless after such an intimate encounter and remained confused to their conversation. “Hunk, just _smell_ him.”

Hunk gathered James in his arms and sniffed deep just as Keith had. James bit his mouth, instinct trying to force a whimper of fear out of his throat, feeling like a rabbit caught in the mouth of a wolf. Fear and yet, excitement. Like he wanted this more than anything in the world.

“Oh, Moon Mother,” Hunk sighed. “Oh, damn, yeah, okay yeah, you’re right. He’ll be _eaten alive_ in there.”

James couldn’t shake away the thought that Hunk was being literal, as Keith spoke into his headset to someone on the other side to bring their “guest” to the VIP section.

“Put in a good word for us, cutie!” Sean cried through cupped hands as James was all but carried around the building, up a flight of rickety stairs, and into a smaller, ordinary door that was nothing like the ornate front. You’d think it would be the opposite for a VIP section, if that was even what they meant by a VIP section. This felt more like the employee only side entrance.

Electronic music mixed in with bass and violins thundered far below him. Club Arus was actually made up of three floors. The basement where the club actually was, the ground floor that was simply the foyer with elaborate stairs leading down to the basement, and the VIP section on the third floor that could peer all the way down to the basement below. It looked so crowded down there, bodies merging into one rolling ameba of debauchery. Impossible to tell where Jenny was even at.

And then... there she was, on the ground floor, actually, standing by the bar. As if she had materialized from his desire to see her alone. She was dressed as a 1950’s Hollywood actress with a white shimmering cocktail dress slimmed all the way down her legs and then flared out in fluffs at her feet. Her blond bob curled around her face, a face that he would recognize anywhere. _“Jenny!”_ he called out but there was no way she could hear him, no way his voice could carry over all this noise and neon chaos.

And she was talking to someone, her red lips curled into a beautiful rosy smile. Another guy. Tall and lanky, with short brown hair. He said something, and she laughed like it was the funniest thing she ever heard. For some reason, James could hear that laugh fine enough. A cruel prank of reality where her voice could reach him but not the other way around.

And then that guy _looked_ at James. _Looked straight up at him._ Eyes of an impossible blue with irises thinned to mere black strips locked onto his gaze. And a handsome, wide grin curved over his beige face with teeth that gleamed sharp and dangerous.

“I need to get down there!” James exclaimed, struggling in Hunk’s grasp.

“That your girl?” Hunk asked without even looking, a simple inquiry that lacked any interest or alarm, as if he already knew the exact situation that had James working up into a frenzy.

Keith snorted in sadistic amusement. “Not anymore. Lance is a _dick_ when it comes to that sort of thing. He’s Allura’s protege, so he thinks he gets to do whatever he wants around here.”

“Ah, but, he won’t hurt her or anything,” Hunk quickly interjected. “Actually, in his presence, no one will bother her since he really is Allura’s protege and all so she’ll be completely safe. But, yeah, he’ll have his fun so tough luck there, buddy. But she’ll be alright. Mostly.”

“Mostly!?”

Keith shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll forget all about her here in a couple of hours, anyway.”

“And how is that supposed to make me feel better?” James snapped.

Keith flashed him a grin over his shoulder, that same grin that was sharp and predatory this Lance guy had just given him, and replied with a simple, cruel, _“It’s not.”_

“Oh, come on, Keith. Look I’ve seen this before, tons of times,” Hunk explained. “The two of you will have your wild night with other people as you forget about each other, which sucks, I get it, but then you’ll wake up tomorrow barely remembering anything that happens tonight, you’ll apologize and go about your lives, how’s that?”

“Not helping,” James said.

Hunk groaned. “Moon Mother, dude, I tried, okay?”

The VIP section was far different from the crowded club below. While the basement had all the electronic comforts of a modern nightclub, flashing lights and pulsing bass, the VIP section seemed far more refined. No one danced up here, many sitting at the tables or standing in small groups, filling the air with soft conversation. If you wanted that sort of thing, the dancing, you went down below. People stared as the trio walked by, and James realized with a bit of a shock that they were all wearing masks. Up here, everyone was dressed for a vintage masquerade. It felt so out of place with the rest of the club, it was like he had been transported to another reality.

The two bouncers dumped him unceremoniously at a table where a lovely young woman sat alone. She wore a simple domino mask, black like her skirts and the tiny top hat pinned off one side of her head and the gloves reaching all the way up her arms. Her deep purple wine corset, oh boy, ahhhh, showed off _a lot_ of brown skin. Her golden eyes held him in place, which was good, because the silver cross strategically placed just above of the swell of her breasts was fighting to drag his gaze lower than was polite.

“James Griffin, right? Nadia Rizavi, third daughter of the Rizavi family, it’s my pleasure to be your chaperone for tonight.” She winked at the struggle written all over his face. “You can look, trust me, I won’t be offended.”

“Sorry?” He squeaked.

“Hey,” Keith interrupted sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. “Did we do good or what? A few more minutes, and I would have eaten him, y’know.”

“Yes, yes, you did good,” Nadia said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Go tell Allura thanks for all her help, and that I am very pleased with the both of you for not eating my charge. You were very good boys.”

“Sounds a little condescending,” Hunk muttered, but Keith shrugged, and the two of them walked away.

“Wolves,” Nadia sighed, rolling her eyes. “Always begging for praise. If you don’t tell them they did good, they get pouty. And then they chew up your good shoes.”

James paled. “Werewolves? So they...?” He shivered.

“Would’ve eaten you? Absolutely,” Nadia finished, because she apparently possessed no tact whatsoever. “But Allura has them very well trained, so you shouldn’t worry too much about them.”

Werewolves. James never encountered a werewolf before. Or any of the dark creatures drawn out by the Third War. Despite the knowledge of their existence, immortals still stayed mere shadows, sticking to tightly defined territories, and so most humans barely ever acknowledged them. And if the two bouncers were werewolves —

“Then you’re a vampire,” he stated.

She smiled, her black lips parting to reveal long, slender fangs. “Very good, darling. What gave it away? The dress?”

He shrugged, gesturing around him. “The whole masquerade ball cliche, I guess.”

She laughed, a sound as sweet as it was deadly. “It’s Samhain, Jimmy. A night full of cliches.” She raised a glass to him filled with a seductive shade of dark red liquid. Blood?

“Relax, sweet thing. It’s just wine. My kind still requires the consumption of more than just blood.” She tapped the menu with a long black nail. “Order something. Everything on the menu is safe for humans to eat.”

While he was trying to not offend a vampire of all creatures, his impatience was starting to get the best of him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay very long. I need to find Jenny.”

Nadia didn’t seem offended. In fact, she made no move to stop him as he stood up from his seat. But she did say very casually after a sip of her wine, “If you go down there, you’ll die.”

“I don’t care,” he shot back petulantly.

“Don’t be a brat. I mean it. If you go out there, you will be literally torn to shreds. Your head at one end of the room, your brains splattered on the wall at the other end, wolves playing tug-o’-war with your guts, some fox running off with your liver — “

“Then all the more reason for me to save Jenny!”

“Mother Moon, give me strength.” Nadia’s eyes flashed. “Jenny is fine, you altruistic idiot! It’s **you** that’s the problem here!”

“I’m the probl—“

“Look, the creatures in Allura’s territory are decent people. We never take more than what is needed, Allura sees to that. But we can’t hide our true nature, especially not on tonight of all nights. Was this Jenny of yours claimed by anyone?”

Claimed?

A sigh at his lack of response. "Was she alone?"

“She... she was talking to this guy. Tall. Blue eyes. Hispanic, I think?”

Nadia brightened. “Ah, she’s with Lance? Oh, even better! Now you definitely have nothing to worry about. Lance will take care of her. Um, maybe not exactly in a way that _you_ would personally care for, we don’t call him Loverboy for nothing, but she will be _alive_ tomorrow morning. A lot less blood in her, but alive. He’s Allura’s protege. He’s very careful about not hurting humans... not in ways they don’t want, at least.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Take what you can get, sweet thing. Some humans who come in here don’t make it out alive at all. Allura can’t control _everyone,_ no matter how many safeguards she has in place. But you, oh sweet summer child, _you will drive everyone in this whole godsdamn building into a frenzy._ And your precious Jenny will be caught in the bloodbath.”

“Why? Why me?”

“Simply put, it’s your smell. You have a very unique natural smell, like most humans, but yours is particularly potent. Congratulations. Now sit back down. The best thing you can do for your girl is to stay up here with me. I am an Elite, and no one will dare touch what has been claimed by an Elite.”

With much misgiving and a deep, discontented sigh, James sat back down. A waiter approached their table then, wearing all white down to the gloves, and from the neck down he seemed human enough. But his head was that of a goat, black fur and long horns. It could have been just a very authentic looking mask, it was a masquerade up here, after all. He poured dark dark wine into James’s glass, refilled Nadia’s, and then set the rest of the bottle back in the ice bucket. “Calamari, please,” Nadia said, “with tzatziki sauce.”

The goat grunted, no sound a human or goat normally made, and took his leave.

To be polite, James took a cautious sip of his wine. Oh, but it was very sweet, heavy, and burned going down his throat. He took another sip. “Is that why the bouncers brought me in here?” he asked. “If my smell, like you said, is able to set off a massacre, then why even bring me inside to begin with?”

“Because Allura is ancient and _bored,_ and I wouldn’t put it past her to be unable to resist kicking the hornet’s nest a little on this holiest of unholy nights. She assumed her wolves would bring you through the front entrance. Luckily, Keith is a big smarter than that.”

“Then you all knew?”

“I didn’t until when we met just now. I gotta say, it really complicates my night a little.”

“And why bring me to you?”

“I told you, I’m your chaperone. Someone, I was told not to say _who_ exactly, but someone who wants to protect you very much asked me for this favor. So here I am. Making sure no harm comes to you.” She had been leaning closer and closer to him, and he really couldn’t look away from her breasts practically falling out of her corset.

“Including you?” he asked through the cotton gathering in his mouth, forcing his gaze back to her hungry golden eyes. Her hands played with his tie, fingers teasing at the collar around his neck. He needed more of that wine.

“Only if you want me to,” she replied, bosom sliding up his torso, her lips dangerously close to his own.

_Shit._

She pulled away with a giggle, and he tried his damnedest not to chug the rest of his wine like his life depended on it."You're fun. I think I like you quite a bit, Jamie... you mind if I call you that? Jamie. It's much cuter, and fits you better."

James bit back his retort that he was not her pet to name as she pleased. What good would that do, she'd probably be even more encouraged to call him that out of spite. So he shrugged. "Whatever you want, Nadia."

She stood up with a flourish. "I want to dance."

"Okay."

She rested her hand in the crook of his arm like they were an actual couple as she led him out to the dance floor. Here, the music could be heard clearly from the basement but instead of the usual bump-and-grind, masked couples danced in what could only be described as a frenzied waltz. Notes of violins chased each other wildly through the electric rhythm in a dizzying 1-2-3 1-2-3. Nadia took lead, but James caught up to her easily enough.

"I didn't know you could dance," she remarked, impressed.

"I've been to a few Garrison balls."

She raised her eyebrows. "Garrison? You a military boy?"

"Fighter pilot."

"Ooooh. So you like a little bit of danger in your life then?"

"I suppose."

"No wonder you were so eager to just rush out and save your girlfriend without any regard for your own safety."

His eyes narrowed. "She's not my girlfriend. She's a friend, _a good friend."_

Nadia threw her head back and laughed as the pair spun around and around, her laugh blending with the gaiety all around them. Maybe it was the spinning, maybe it was all the wine, but James head began to grow heavy, like he was drowning. And he kind of wanted to just go with it. They danced a few more songs, each more spirited, more frenzied than the last until sweat was pouring down his face, and her chest squeezed even tighter against her corset for air. 

She kissed him. Grabbed his collar and kissed him, in the middle of the dance floor, in front of all these immortal strangers. Claiming him as she said she had. Just as his eyes closed, just as his lips trembled to kiss her back, she pulled away with a giggle.

"Jamie, you are much too easy," she said as they head back to the table, and she poured them more wine. "Even for a _Puricordis.”_

He set his mostly empty glass down after a much needed drink. “A what?”

“Means having a pure heart — “

“Yeah, I know what it _means,_ loosely, I’ve taken a few Latin courses for my electives, but what... what does that mean to me, exactly?”

She quirked an eyebrow, playful, teasing. “You really wanna know?”

“Does this have anything to do with my _unique scent_ you keep talking about?” He’d seen enough horror movies, loved them, actually, except maybe not so much after tonight, to know where this train of thought was going. It’s been the theme of so many fairy tales since the invention of folklore. Someone with a pure heart comes along and undoes the nightmare, breaks the curse, defeats the evil, or in this case causes all monsters in this building to lose whatever shred of humanity they had left in them.

James was still staring intently at Nadia as their goat-headed waiter brought their serving of steaming calamari. She wouldn’t stop smiling, eyes gleaming, enjoying the suspense she was drawing out. Only the sheer military discipline courtesy of the Garrison kept him from squirming in his seat. She was so breathtaking. And somehow even more beautiful when she was teasing him. She took a piece of calamari, dripping with the white tzatziki sauce, and broke it delicately between her teeth. He swallowed.

“It means you’re a virgin.”

The whole club might as well have come to a scratching halt. In reality, the club goers went about their business not giving one damn or another about the poor boy stuck in the VIP section with his entire lack of sex life laid out before this gorgeous vampire chick he only just met a short while ago.

It took a moment for James to collect enough of himself to squeeze out a cracking, “E- _excuse me?”_

“Don’t even try to deny it, boy, I haven’t even started yet, and already just my revealing corset is about to make you blow your load.”

“I was going to say that it’s not any of your business.”

"Are you religious?"

"What?"

"Do you believe in a Higher Being and go to church to worship said Being?"

Were all vampires this patronizing? "It's more of a family thing than personal practice."

"Catholic?"

"Greek Orthodox."

"That's not as terrible, I guess. Look, I’m sure you have your reasons for clinging to your innocence, and no, I won’t pry into them.” She chewed another piece of calamari in thought. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we can all smell your sweet, sweet virgin blood and that’s gonna be an issue here in a few hours.”

“What’s in a few hours?”

“The Bloody Feast. At the stroke of twelve. And trust me, it’s as literal as it sounds. No human that doesn’t have a death wish should be in this building when it happens. Even all of Allura’s ancient powers won’t be able to hold them back then, and honestly, she’s under no obligation to try.”

James slammed his hands against the table, rage coursing through him. “You said Jenny would be safe!”

“To keep your ass calm so you wouldn’t go charging after her like a lovesick hero. But like I said, we can’t hide our true nature on Samhain. And Jenny will be safe enough if Lance lets her leave before midnight. Which, looks less and less likely as time goes on now that I think about it. Yeah, that could be a problem.”

“You lied to me.”

“Maybe a little.”

“Seriously, is this all just a game to you?”

She shrugged. “Vampire. I told him I would keep you _safe._ I never promised I wouldn’t have a little bit of fun with you. _And you are a lot of fun.”_

He sat back, hands balling into fists on his knees. He needed do _something._ Find Jenny. Get her out of here. But if he went down there, his virgin scent would draw all the monsters to him. Kill him before he got there. And he believed Nadia told the truth about that much, at least. The hungry way Keith and Hunk had looked at him proved it. He would be dead before he got to Jenny.

He turned on his smartphone. No messages from Jenny. No updates on her social media either. She was having way too much fun with this Lance guy, probably, too caught up in whatever spell he had her under to even bother with her phone. This Bloody Feast was less than two hours away.

"You got a lot of guts, Jamie, I'll give you that," Nadia remarked, reading all the thoughts plain on his face. "Enough to paint one of these walls with."

He hated to admit it, but if he couldn’t somehow get Nadia to help him, he would not be able to get Jenny away from this place before midnight. He turned off his phone with a sigh, stuffed it back in his pocket. Nadia watched him patiently, eating her calamari, waiting for him to do exactly what he had no choice but to do.

“If being a Puricordis just means being a virgin... then if I got rid of my virginity, then none of the immortals should be able to smell me, right? I’ll smell like any other human, right?”

Nadia’s eyes widened. Apparently, she had not been expecting him to make that particular suggestion. “You would do that?” she asked, tilting her head. “You would give up your purity for this one girl?”

“I mean, it’s just sex. It’s not like being or not being a virgin really matters. I’m not pure or anything like that.”

“The idea of virginity being a testament of one's purity may sound incredibly archaic to humans, and it is, but that’s not the point. To immortals, it’s the implications behind your actions that what matter. Demons and immortals and monsters were all born of man’s darkness, and it is that darkness what we truly feed off of. It just takes the form of something tangible like blood or flesh or a penis.”

“So poetic.”

“Just can’t believe you actually want to have sex with little ol’ me. Such an honor!”

It was hard to tell whether she was seriously flattered or just making fun of him again. Maybe both?

Then she was scooting close to him again, but this time her arms slipped around his shoulders, her lips drawing close to his own. “But before we get started on that, sweet Jamie, there’s a small price you gotta pay first. I don’t just let anyone, mortal or otherwise, use my body for free.”

Well, he had been expecting that, starting to catch on a bit to how this game with immortals was played. She kissed him again, and he sank into that kiss immediately, catching her mouth with his, slotting their lips together, pleased at her little jump of surprise. He might be a virgin, sure, but he was no stranger to kissing.

Fuck, Nadia was so pretty. It was hard to remember Jenny at all, not with Nadia in his arms, that smartass mouth of hers kissing him so sweetly. And her scent, like dried flowers, making him lightheaded in the best way. Her fangs tickled at his bottom lip, tugging so gently, her tongue sliding over his mouth, slipping between his teeth. He sighed, letting his body take over for him, letting it convince him that Nadia was just a pretty girl making out with him. When she pulled away a moment, she looked just like that, eyes hazy, black lipstick smeared over her plush, wet mouth. Unable to resist, he leaned back into her, not letting her go just yet, hunger brewing in his stomach, hands sliding up her thighs.

“Aren’t you an eager one?” Nadia whispered breathlessly, and he moaned so softly when her lips touched his neck. Her hands had slyly loosened his tie, pulled down his collar, exposed the olive flesh of his throat. Her tongue danced over the sensitive skin just above his vein, making his pulse jump, his breath quicken. As his fingers dug into her soft thighs, ripping tiny runs in her stockings, his cock strained against his pants. It was a bit embarrassing how worked up he was already getting just for making out.

She pulled away again, her fingers lightly touching his swollen lips. “I like to think of myself as a nice person, so I’ll give you once last chance to back out. I can take you out of here myself easily enough, bring you back to the Garrison safe and sound. Even keep you company for the rest of the night."

So, so tempting when she put it that way. But. “I can’t,” he whispered thickly. “I can’t leave Jenny here.”

His hands slid further up her thighs, away from the cloth of her stocks to the warm skin. From his understanding, vampires were supposed to be cold to the touch, but here the heat of her sex told him a far different story. Well, if they were going to actually be doing this, honesty couldn’t hurt. “And I... and I don’t want to stop,” he added.

Her breath hitched, like he had actually caught her off guard for once. And was she blushing? “Don’t say things like that, Jamie,” she muttered, not looking directly at him. “You’ll give a girl the wrong idea.”

They kissed for a little bit more, and she returned to his neck. This time, he winced at the slight pain of her fangs sinking into him. A pain that instantly vaporized into pure bliss. He no longer remembered why he was here, and he didn't care. Nothing mattered but the girl in his lap, and the fire burning his body from the inside out. Nadia’s hand rested on his thigh and then slid over his zipper, coaxing out his cock with playful fingers. The head was already slick with precum, beads pearling and sliding down his shaft. He blanked out at her touch, aware of nothing but the greedy sounds of her sucking his neck and the deliriously soft fabric of her silk glove as she rubbed him up and down. He curled up into her with a gasp, helpless to do anything but cling to her.

“Nadia,” he moaned, trying to tell her to slow down, to wait a moment, this sensation building up from deep inside him, trying to force its way out of him, it was too strange, too fast, too intense. He was going to lose himself completely. But all he could manage was her name over and over again. “Nadia... Nadia...!!”

He came with a shuddering cry, hot cum shooting over her gloved hand, white stains on black silk. He wasn’t coming down, he wasn’t coming down. He continued to float in his own mind even after his orgasm. Like he was becoming detached from himself.

“Stay with me, Jamie,” Nadia warned from somewhere far, far away. “Shit, shit, you were way too sweet, boy. I've never tasted anything like you before.”

He was barely aware of the taste of her skin until something warm and metallic filled his mouth. He grimaced, but whatever it was soothed his throat, much like the wine he had been drinking earlier. He drank in big gulps, unable to get enough. “Okay, you, okay, hey, c-calm down there.”

He opened his eyes and lifted his face from Nadia’s chest, his mouth dripping with blood, having just drank from the cut from the upper curve of her breast. He scrambled back against his chair, blood in his mouth, cum on his lap, and his face flushed with shame.

“Sweet thing,” Nadia whispered, caressing the side of his cheek. Then she straightened her corset, her face a bit paler than usual. “I’m afraid I took too much blood, so I gave you some of mine so you wouldn’t, y’know, die.”

“Am I a vampire now?” he asked, feeling a bit stupid while his brain was trying to push past the fog of a near-death experience.

“No. But try not to die in the next three days if that’s not something you want to become.”

“I.. I don’t think I have any control over that.”

Then, becoming more aware of his surroundings, James quickly stuffed himself back in his pants as Nadia returned to her chair. He noticed that their goat-waiter stood next to him, for however long he had no way of telling, holding out a crimson napkin. Face growing as red as that napkin, he muttered a “thanks” as he took it to wipe his lap with, and it occurred to him that he just climaxed and then drank a girl’s blood from her chest _in public._

“So is that it?”

Nadia grinned. “Oh, no. This is Samhain, sweet thing. So we’re gonna go a bit... _extra.”_

* * *

 

**-3-**

When Nadia said they were going extra, she hadn’t been kidding. Ten minutes later, James found himself in another room, sitting naked in the center of a circle of white candles. “So, you said to go extra, but don’t you think this is a bit _overkill?”_ he asked.

“Nonsense, your first time is supposed to be special, remember? This is how they did all the sex rituals of old,” Nadia said as she pulled off her corset and let her dress fall in black waves by her feet. James swallowed hard. So gorgeous was she completely naked with only her thigh high stockings on her legs. He wanted to lose himself to her, to the moment, but ritual candles and the pentacle he was sitting on aside —

“Do we have to fuck in front of the goats?” And he gestured to the line of goat-headed waiters standing outside the circle watching them silently.

“You’re about to do something extraordinary, a Puricordis giving up his purity. And on Samhain, no less! We have to have witnesses, do things properly, y’know. Besides, they’re not human or anything, so they don’t really care. I figured inviting the other vampires here might be a bit too much for you.”

“Thanks for that,” he muttered.

“I know, I’m such a considerate person, aren’t I?”

She climbed over him, straddling his hips, and all protests he had immediately went silent as her wet pussy sat on his twitching cock. “It’s okay, you can touch me,” she said. “You don’t have to just lay there and think of England or Kansas or whatever. In fact, full participation is highly encouraged.”

Unsure how to even begin, his hands ghosted along her arms, cautious, testing, and still very self-conscious with all the goat heads watching him with their soulless black eyes. She didn’t say anything, didn’t make fun of him this time, only squirming a bit when his hands trailed down her arms again and made her shiver. He touched her arms, her back, her thighs, taking his time feeling every inch of her. He thumbed the undersides of her breasts, lifting his gaze to hers, questioning.

“Still such a gentleman,” she teased lightly, then cupped her tits in his palms. He squeezed and massaged her for a moment, then brought a dusky brown nipple to his mouth, wetting it with little kitten licks before sucking hungrily. Her hips rolled against him, nails lightly scraping chills up and down his spine. How was it one person could be so soft and warm and _alive?_ She made the softest little sounds that encouraged him, let him know that he was doing something right, so he moved his head to give her other breast the same attention, teasing the one he just nursed on with his fingers. 

Then she pushed him down by his shoulders, pinning him to the floor, smiling oh so sweetly. In that moment, he realized, he would do absolutely whatever she wanted. It didn’t matter, why he was here, why he was even doing this. Nothing mattered. Only her.

The flickering flames of the candles seemed to grow higher and brighter in their wicks, tiny golden points reflecting in the eyes of the goats observing the dark ritual.

She grasped his cock and lined him up to her slick entrance, enjoying how he squirmed as she teased him some more, letting only just the very tip of him slide over her wet folds. “Nadia, Nadia, please,” he begged, nails digging into her stockings that he liked very, very much.

“Begging a-already?”

He smirked at her, catching the hitch in her voice. “From the sound of things, you want it just as bad as I do.”

She flushed, puffing her cheeks cutely. “Maybe you _should_ just lay back and think of England.”

He laughed, but it was cut short when she quickly slid down him, burying him deep inside her. _“Fuuuck,”_ he gasped, head thrown back, spine arching off the floor.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what we’re doing,” Nadia joked, rising herself up and then sliding down again, slower this time. Rolling her hips up, and then down again. Again and again. James thought he heard chanting echo throughout the room, but he wasn’t sure and neither did he care in this moment. The chanting became a rhythm for Nadia to set her pace to, and he followed her lead, faster and faster, just like their frantic waltz from earlier. He wasn’t going to last long like this, now with the way she bounced on him, the sounds she made as her pussy tightened around him, and then her finger trailed down her belly through her dark curls to play with her swollen clit.

“Nadiaaa,” he whined. The goats continued their indiscernible chant in an ancient language he couldn’t being to understand, and the candle flames grew larger and larger until they engulfed into one ring of fire surrounding the circle. Sweat poured trailed over Nadia’s glowing skin, between her bouncing breasts, down her belly, over her legs. Everything was so hot, so wet, he clawed at her hips just to hang on as the pleasure within him grew.

“I’m so close,” she breathed. “Come on, you can come for me, baby. I won’t be far behind you.”

He shook his head, biting his lower lip, letting the pain of his teeth drawing blood pull him back from his climax just a bit. Nadia’s pupils shrank into slits at the scent and sight of the thin trail of blood dripping from his mouth. “N-not fair!” she cried, and then cried out again as her body rocked with climax, thighs trembling, pussy squeezing him, squeezing him so tight, so good...

The chanting echoed in his head as he came hard, filling her with his cum, chest heaving desperately for air as bliss engulfed his entire body like an inferno.

When he came back down, the room was much dimmer and cooler. The blazing fire from all the candles had dwindled to mere tiny flickers. All the goat-headed waiters had vanished as if they had never been there to begin with.

“You did it,” Nadia said, already on her feet and putting on her dress, leaving him there panting. “You’re no longer Puricordis. Your scent will blend in with all the other scents of debauchery and perversion downstairs.“

“Um... yeah,” he said at length when his breath became normal again. He curled into a sitting position, kind of wishing he could hold her for just a little bit longer.

“The Bloody Feast will start soon. You’d better get dressed, and get down there. You only have so much time to find her in that crowd. Because at midnight, it won’t matter if you’re Puricordis or not, it’ll all be the same.”

“Come with me.”

Nadia’s hands stilled on the laces of her corset. She looked at James then, and there was a vulnerability in her eyes that he had never seen before, and he was likely to never see again. Like she wanted to go with him more than anything. At least, he wanted to believe that, he really did.

“I...” Her gaze searched his face for something. For what, he couldn’t guess. “I... I can’t, Jamie. Sorry. Vampire, remember? I gotta participate in the Bloody Feast. It’s Samhain, y'know, and I have a family to represent. But I can at least get you and your girl out of here. Hurry now. I’ll meet you by the side door where you came through with the wolves earlier. The front door will be locked.”

“But — “

She hissed at him, fangs bared from beneath her lips. “Don’t waste what precious little time you have on me, fighter pilot! Go be a hero, and be quick about it!”

James wasted no more time, throwing most of his clothes back on, not even bothering with his jacket, vest, or hat. He didn’t even spare Nadia another look as he ran out the door.

* * *

 

**-4-**

Ever since that night, that awful, horrific night, his dreams had been nothing but nightmares.

The Bloody Feast. A midnight festival of demons.

He hadn’t made it. That night, so desperate he had been to save Jenny, and nothing had come of it. To this day, her social media remained silent, no pictures, no updates. The last message he had from her still read that she had just arrived at Allura’s.

Jenny.

He hadn’t made it. He had failed her. Lost her forever in that crowd. That crowd of chomping teeth and squirting blood and so, so much screaming. It wasn’t until Nadia had dragged him outside that the screams were his own, Jenny’s name over and over tearing out of his strained, desperate throat that she would never answer.

He wanted to blame Nadia, but he couldn’t. She had been, ultimately, trying to protect him just as she had been tasked to do by some mysterious person. And she was a vampire. What did an insignificant mortal like Jenny mean to her anyway?

What did _he_ mean to her for that matter?

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the Bloody Feast. Tables and tables throughout the club piled high with candles, drink, food, so much meat. Not the kind of meat you could find in any kind of grocery store. Too red. Much, much too red. Raw and sweet. Twisted meat that looked like limbs and dripping guts and staring eyes, and the smell fogged his brain, and the sounds of screaming and slurping and teeth nearly drove him insane.

At least, Nadia had been correct. All the feasting immortals didn't try to kill James as he stumbled through that crowd on the slippery slick floor. In fact, they seemed to think he was one of them, shoving bits of meat into his face in the spirit of sharing, roaring with demonic laughter when he vomited it back up.

So he had seen in his nightmares over and over again.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, James suffered from a blistering fever. His body covered in a sheen of sweat, too hot for his blankets until a chill overtook him, freezing him to the bone and making his teeth chatter violently in his skull. He wondered if he had the flu, but he didn’t feel nauseous. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

He was _hungry._ Insatiable. No matter what he ate, his stomach gnawed at him, demanded more.

He didn’t have a lot of food in his fridge or pantry to begin with since he hadn’t been able to go grocery shopping yet, something he’d actually planned to do right after Halloween to take advantage of all the candy sales. Then his fever struck the next morning, keeping him confined to his apartment. He'd taken off work, the doctor worried that he might be coming down with a particularly nasty strain of the flu that had been going around.

His phone buzzed. Not Jenny, but Kinkade, checking up on him. Being so horribly feverish made texting difficult, much less announcing to the whole world on social media how sick he was. He replied with a cheery text that he could manage in his haze that he was fine, and if Kinkade could swing by with some lunch that would be great.

Since when was he so hungry while being so sick to begin with?

Back to the fridge, there really was nothing. He had eaten all the leftovers, all the veggies (which he nearly did vomit), drank all the juice and milk. All that was left was some hamburger meat he had put in the fridge to thaw to make... he had no idea, he had eaten all the ingredients for anything else. Cooking up a burger patty to eat with only mustard without any buns or cheese at the very least didn’t sound all that appealing, but then a sharp pain tore through his stomach, a hunger pain that could only be sated with food. And who knew how long it would be before Kinkade showed up with lunch.

Was raw hamburger supposed to be this red, this enticing? He tore open the package, discovering that simply smelling it eased the pain in his stomach a little. Relief flooding through him, he smelled it again. Deeper. The pain subsided with each deep breath he took.

He remembered his nightmare of the meat that he had consumed at the Bloody Feast. Only this wasn't the nightmare he kept having, but an actual memory, a memory was telling him a far different story.

That he had ate with eager abandon, and that demonic laughter around him was amused at his enthusiasm, not his revulsion.

Chunks slippery raw and red slid down his throat as he sank his teeth deep into the meat, crimson juices spilling from both corners of his mouth. Greedy moans poured out from deep within his chest as he ate and ate, the pain vanishing into satisfaction with each bite. His last bit of humanity had lied to him so he wouldn’t lose himself completely. But he remembered now. The seductive red. The coppery sweetness.

He had consumed almost half of the two-pound package when he finally lifted his head with a content sigh... then the horror of what he had done washed over him like icy water.

The package dropped out of his hands with a wet plop on the floor. He raced to the bathroom to scrub his hands, his face, with soap and hot water, and fiercely brushed his teeth to get the taste of raw meat out of his mouth. Then he crawled back into bed as his horror was replaced with shame. He curled beneath the blanket as small as he could go, a horrific thought coming over him that he was slowly becoming like them.

Because nothing had tasted more delicious to him than that raw, chunky, red meat.

* * *

 

**-5-**

Griffin was mostly a healthy eater, but Kinkade showed up at his apartment with burgers and fries, anyway, because it seemed like a good idea to bring comfort food. The guy had gone to Club Arus during Samhain and the Bloody Feast. Kinkade was not naïve enough to believe Griffin had escaped that club without enduring some kind of trauma. He was going to need all the comfort he can get.

The door would be unlocked for him, but Kinkade knocked anyway before stepping inside.

It smelled like an _animal_ in here.

“Hey, are you awake?” he called out, setting the food down on the counter. Raw hamburger meat lay spilled all over the tiny kitchen floor, red juice staining the tile. His stomach sank.

“James?”

Long, low growling of some beast met his ears. He turned around to see Griffin in the corner of the living room, cursing himself silently for having not noticed him there the moment he walked in. The other youth’s lips were drawn back in a vicious snarl, revealing teeth far too sharp for any human’s mouth. The once pearly whites of his eyes were now a vivid yellow, and his irises far too purple to be real. His usually neatly combed brown hair now stood out in all kinds of wild directions, like the fur of a threatened animal.

Kinkade stared in surprise. Then again, he really should have seen this coming.

_Goddammit, Rizavi, what have you done?_

“Hey there,” Kinkade said softly, soothingly, slowly reaching for his satchel hanging off his hip beneath his long cloak while he held out his other hand. “Easy, boy. Easy. I know, I know, you’re absolutely terrified right now. I know I’m not her. But you know me, Griffin. You know me. Isn’t my scent familiar to you?”

Inch by inch, he reached out, like trying to calm a wild dog.

Which wasn’t far from the truth, really.

Griffin growled louder the closer Kinkade’s hand came, but otherwise remained in place. Kinkade’s gentle voice seemed to be doing the trick, which he was going to need to rely on for another twenty seconds as the hand in his satchel pulled out a dark band.

“I’m so sorry,” Kinkade continued. “I should’ve been there, I should’ve stopped you. I only ever wanted to keep you safe. I never meant to hide things from you.”

Those too vivid violet eyes flashed with very human surprise, and that was the break Kinkade needed. He pounced on Griffin, faster than a normal person could move, pinning the smaller man to the floor. Griffin snarled and snapped his teeth, struggling beneath Kinkade’s hold with a strength he definitely didn’t have before Samhain. But it wasn’t enough to give him an advantage for Kinkade was far more experienced, far more used to this kind of situation having dealt with much deadlier, much older creatures.

“Easy, boy, calm down,” he continued to soothe as Griffin thrashed beneath him. “Sit, siiiit, good boy.” He slipped the band around Griffin’s neck, snapping it in place. A leather collar threaded with silver. He kept Griffin pinned until the effect took place, until Griffin calmed down and went still. “Good boy. There’s a good boy. You don’t mean any of this. You’re just scared, I get it. There you go.”

The growling faded to a long, pitiful whine. And because it felt strangely appropriate, Kinkade tenderly stroked the top of his head, brushing back the locks of cinnamon-brown hair. Griffin’s skin was on fire, it almost burned to touch him. He could hear Griffin’s heart racing in its cage. The transformation was not being kind, but then again, it rarely was. Though with Griffin, it seemed to be hitting him with a nasty quickness.

“I put a silver-threaded collar on you,” Kinkade explained. “It will keep the worst of your bestial instincts at bay.” For now. Griffin hadn’t hunted yet. And until he finally did, the effect of the collar would lessen.

“Ryan,” Griffin whined, his voice barely able to rise above his heavy breathing. “Wh-where’s Nadia? Where is she? I need to see her again.”

“It’s daylight,” Kinkade replied. “But she’ll be here when she can. She’ll take care of you from now on.”

Griffin coughed wetly, shivering violently despite the heat radiating from his body. “What’s happening to me?”

Kinkade sighed. This was not how he wanted this day to come, but then again, he never wanted it to in the first place. He had only ever wanted to protect Griffin from that part of the world, this full-blooded human who shined far too brightly to ever understand true darkness. And this was the price. If he had told the truth from the beginning, Griffin wouldn’t have had to suffer.

Not that it mattered anymore.

“Get comfortable,” he said, rising to his feet and helping Griffin to the couch. “It’s a very long story...”

* * *

 

**-6-**

“When I asked you to protect him, _you weren’t supposed to turn him into a werewolf, Rizavi!”_

With Samhain over, Nadia Rizavi looked like any other girl in her oversized hoodie and leggings, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. A normal girl who just so happened to be balancing delicately on on top of a street lamp as she gazed down at a furious vampire hunter, her golden eyes glowing unnaturally behind her glasses. It was kinda cute that Ryan looked so angry, rarely ever showing his emotions so openly like this.

She pulled her sucker out of her mouth with a wet pop. “For the last time, Ryan, I swear, I didn’t mean to turn him into a werewolf! C’mon, we both know I enjoy pissing you off sometimes, but this time, it really was an accident.”

It really had been. Not that he would believe her. It was done regardless. Sweet, heroic, selfless Jamie Griffin had become one of the immortals now, one of the monsters his kind feared so, so much.

“Look, your boy was chomping at the bit to go rushing headlong into a crowd of monsters to rescue his gal pal, what else was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, Rizavi, how about **not** drink his blood and **not** turn him into a damn werewolf!”

“I keep telling you, it was an accident.”

“Full autumn moon. Virgin.”

 _“Was_ a virgin,” Nadia said out of the corner of her mouth, not quite looking at him.

“Was?” Kinkade stared. “Oh. God. DAMMIT.”

Nadia rolled her eyes. “Okay, I get why you’re mad about the whole blood drinking thing, and that might have been unnecessary on my end, I’ll admit that, but you can’t just send someone to me with that face and those eyes and not expect me to have fun.”

“Protecting someone isn’t about having fun,” Kinkade fired back.

“It can be, you should probably try it sometime.”

As Kinkade seethed, Nadia leaped gracefully down to the cobblestone street. She wouldn’t be surprised if he whipped out his crossbow right now and shot her with a deadly silver bolt right into her heart. The hand on his hip indicated the thought was definitely crossing his mind. But he wouldn’t, and they both knew it. The Rizavi family had a truce among the vampire hunters, allies even. He would not risk that, no matter his feelings for his poor friend.

“Think of it this way,” Nadia said gently, “now that he’s a werewolf and no longer Puricordis, you have nothing to worry about. No one will bother him. And he’s mine, forever bound to me. He’ll be giving all the protection the Rizavi family can provide. Just at the price of him having to eat a human or two here and there. Which isn’t so terrible.”

It was a long moment before he replied with a very, very soft, “And how long until I must hunt him down, too?”

“I won’t let it come to that.”

Kinkade stared at her for an even longer moment. He no longer looked angry. Just tired. “War is coming, Rizavi. I know you can sense it. Prince Lotor has come back. And Allura is restless with ambition and boredom. She’ll make her move to replace Honerva as Queen of Vampires. You will keep Griffin from getting caught up in the crossfire?”

She nodded. “I swear to it. On my family’s honor. And our friendship, which I hope we are still friends, despite all this.”

He didn’t answer her with more than a stern, “I’ll hold you to that, then.”

* * *

 

**-7-**

Griffin sprang up from his bed when he heard someone at the door. He had spent the past week in absolute lonely misery, plagued with nightmares, fever, and an insatiable hunger that raw grocery meat could only satisfy for so long. Every night, it had been everything he could do not to leap out from his window and go chasing down the life that moved unseen in the darkness.

And when he wasn’t haunted by nightmares, by the Bloody Feast, all he could think about was Nadia.

Where was she? Kinkade said she would come for him, but it’s been a week, where was she?

Sometimes, he would think of Jenny. But only sometimes. She was barely more than a memory now. Maybe she had always been just that, and he had only been lured to Club Arus by his own lonely nostalgia and longing to make something more of his life than the same old, same old. Something new. Exciting. Nadia.

So he laid on his bed, refusing to go to work, refusing to leave or do anything but wait for her.

And then, one night, there she was. Standing just outside his front door. So adorable, so perfect in her oversized hoodie and glasses. “Nadia,” he breathed, trying not to collapse against the frame. The collar around his neck burned his throat.

“Oh, you poor, sweet thing. The transformation is kicking your ass pretty bad, isn’t it?”

“Where have you been?” He didn’t care about being a werewolf or anything else. All he wanted was Nadia here by his side.

That’s all that mattered.

Her eyes softened with remorse. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner,” she said with a tender smile. “I had to take care of some things, make a few arrangements. We’re gonna leave, Jamie. Somewhere far away, okay? Just you and me, doesn’t that sound nice? But first... you gotta invite me in.”


End file.
